Sorry, Suiren, but you haven't guessed correctly for once. I give it until the next chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, nor do I own its characters or places. However, anything you do not recognize is most likely my creation.
Chapter Nineteen
Kami reappeared on the Lookout in a less-than-pleasant mood. He hadn't expected to visit the Kame House twice in one day, but it couldn't be helped. His encounter with the North Kai and two of his students had not gone as planned, and instead of alerting the Earth's defenders to a potential danger he had alienated them from his cause. He only hoped they would come around before it was too late. If they did not see his reasoning and follow it to its logical conclusion, Piccolo could destroy them all.
That was still a big if, though, but they needed to exercise more caution than they had been. Goku was still strung up on the whole "repent and be friends" ideology, and that would cause only problems. Kami hung his head as he tossed his cloak behind his shoulders and strode forward into the palace. He had a lot of research to do if he was to be credible, and that would be nothing short of miraculous. The Guardian gritted his teeth as he began the long walk through the palace's winding corridors to the library. "So precious few…so little time," he muttered under his breath. It never paid to underestimate demons, and if his assumptions were correct, they could not afford to this time.
The aging Namek thought back to the conversation he had had with Uranai Baba not that long ago, and he winced in spite of himself. From what he understood, some powerful being from some other realm had sought to extend its sphere of influence into the physical plane and had corrupted the witch's crystal ball in its bid for power. And Kami had gotten an earful about how she had just gotten her ball fixed and tuned up, cleaned – and after fifteen minutes of it he had wished he'd never consulted her. He had heard Piccolo's side of the story and thought it wise to hear Baba's, and it was a good decision. His evil half's youngest son had failed to mention the way the warriors had been tossed about like rag dolls, or the fact that Baba was almost unable to bind the being to its own realm.
Blast the boy, he thought angrily. He would not heed my counsel, and now he has the rest of the warriors backing him. If only they knew what a serious mistake they were making! Kami was jolted out of his thoughts when Mr. Popo abruptly appeared in the hallway and ran right into him. "Oof!" the Guardian exclaimed as he was knocked to the ground. His staff flew out of his hand and clattered to the ground.
"Oh, Kami!" the djinn cried, rushing forward and extending a hand to the Namek. "Are you all right? I'm so sorry!"
"I'll be fine, Popo," the Namek replied, rubbing his back with one hand and clasping the djinn's hand with the other. He allowed the other man to pull him to his feet.
Mr. Popo peered up at his friend's face. "So, how did your visit go?" he asked, folding his arms behind his back.
"Not too good, Popo," the Guardian said, grimacing and picking up the staff. "I did not have the opportunity to tell them about our problem, nor was I able to warn them about what might be lurking in his mind." He then began his trek down the hall again, and the djinn joined him.
"Oh, dear, that is not good at all, Kami," Mr. Popo said anxiously, shaking his head.
"No, it's not. It's bad enough that Piccolo will not accept any aid from me, but now the rest of the warriors believe I do not care about what is happening to him." Unknown to the Guardian, Mr. Popo stopped briefly in his tracks in confusion. He resumed his pace before the error was noticed. "That's not it at all," Kami continued, putting a hand to his forehead. "From what research I've done so far, Piccolo's mind is going to be vulnerable to the same kind of attack he had suffered weeks ago. I was pulled from my study to see an unconscious warrior, Popo. They do not understand that they cannot help Piccolo if another such attack is launched. Do you understand what I am saying?"
"I think so, Kami. But what happens if we are too late?"
"Then the Earth will not survive the aftermath."
Mr. Popo tugged at the Guardian's sleeve as a thought that had been bothering him all day came to the front of his mind. "Kami, how much of this could have been prevented if you had taken Piccolo in as a child?"
Kami sighed. Leave it to Popo to bring up the touchiest question possible. "Much of this could have been avoided, Popo," and he grimaced, "to be honest. I believe that had relations between Piccolo and I been better, they would not be brushing me aside." And perhaps we would not need to worry about other-worldly beings attacking the Earth through him.
Neither occupant of the Lookout met the other's eyes for a few minutes. When they did, it was a brief but meaningful exchange. "Let's just hope he pulls through this quickly," Kami said, furrowing his brow as he entered the library.
Unspoken was the addition, or else we are all done for.
It wasn't until late in the evening that everyone in the Kame House began to bed down for the night. Tien and Chiaotzu had said their goodbyes just after dinner, with the promise of stopping in every few days. Chiaotzu had winked to Gohan on the side and told him that if he needed to get away from Chi-Chi, he could stay with Tien and himself. Much to Chi-Chi's chagrin, her family remained at the house – Goku was in no condition to fly her around, and she would not tolerate Gohan carrying her. So she and her husband camped out in the living room, and Gohan slept in with Krillin.
Krillin was in the kitchen with Goku and Master Roshi when Gohan snuggled himself into his sparring partner's cozy bed, wrapping himself in the wonderfully soft blankets. He'd had a rough day, and it was time for a well-deserved rest. "Goodnight, dad, mom," he murmured, a habit from his own quiet home in the woods, where the three of them would not sleep until each had wished the other a good night's sleep. They did not hear him, which in of itself did not matter – they were talking about Piccolo again.
To the best of the boy's knowledge, the god who had trained his dad had stopped in earlier, when Piccolo had begun screaming about something. And he had knocked Piccolo out before Kami came in. After the old Namek and the blue god both left, they'd been graced with a few hours of inactivity. Then Piccolo had nearly gone into another screaming fit, or so he had heard. Krillin was talking about it right now, and Gohan strained his ears to hear his words. "…and the way he just grimaced like that. He almost tore holes in his hands with his fingers…still…but no…just fine, not…still hot to the touch…" was what he could glean from the conversation, and the boy berated himself for not learning how to listen like Piccolo.
Piccolo just has to come back! the demi-Saiyan thought fiercely. He and dad are almost unstoppable together! And he fell asleep with that happy thought in his mind.
Gohan laughed. Of course it was a dream, he mused, because Piccolo was standing before him with a smirk on his face. "What's so funny, kid?" the Namek asked wryly, tilting his head slightly to the right.
"Aw, nothing, Piccolo," he said, lowering his eyes. "It's just so beautiful out here." The boy gazed appreciatively at the emerald grass, almost of a color as his mentor's skin. They stood together in a field full of this colorful grass, and with occasional patches of other vegetation. Two or three trees stretched their branches to the azure sky, their leaves fanned out and rustling gently in the warm breeze. Gohan sighed. Why couldn't it be like this when he wasn't dreaming?
So intent on the ground was he that he nearly missed hearing the wind speak.
Wait a second…the wind was speaking? Gohan glanced up quickly at his mentor, but the Namek's mouth was closed. It was too easy, the breeze murmured quietly in his ears. He still harbors that hatred, that anger.
"Did you say something, Piccolo?" Gohan asked, awaiting an answer. But Piccolo merely shook his head and turned his back to the boy. Gohan paid him no heed then, since the Namek often ignored him when he became too annoying. So he dropped to his hands and knees and began rolling around in the lush grass, smiling the whole time.
But the smile faded when the wind whispered again. Soon…soon he will fall.
Now that wasn't something Piccolo was likely to say, and the boy began to worry. "Piccolo? Are you sure you…" his voice trailed off as he realized the Namek was no longer in sight. "Piccolo?" he called, propping himself up on his elbows. "Where are you?" His wide-eyed gaze met with nothing other than trees and grass. It's all working out as you planned.
The demi-Saiyan stood up and began brushing dead grass off his clothes. "This isn't fun," he grumbled to himself, pulling a twig out of his hair. "I know I'm dreaming – this is a lucid dream. So why can't I control what's going on? Blast it all! At least my Calculus book hasn't appeared yet." Though he was growing concerned about this voice he kept hearing. Ah, Bulma would jump on him in an instant if she thought he could hear other people's thoughts. So real was the feeling she was lurking just behind him that Gohan whirled around, half-expecting to see the scientist standing there with her notebook.
Of course, there was no one there. "I'm getting all edgy over a dream. Stop it," he told himself sternly.
"Get out of here, Gohan," came Piccolo's voice, in a tone so chillingly hard that the boy shivered.
"Get out of where, Piccolo?" he called, turning his head and looking around wildly.
"Leave, kid! Now!" came the reply.
By now the boy was thoroughly confused. This wasn't supposed to be happening! Why wasn't Piccolo showing himself? And why was he telling him to run? That wasn't like him at all, unless something terrible had happened. Was that it? But this is a dream! Nothing can happen in a dream – that's all it is, a dream. Wasn't it? Gohan hugged his arms to his chest against the cold breeze that came up, and he watched as the sky darkened with clouds. This was definitely not something that happened in normal dreams, and he was beginning to pray that he didn't just get stuck in a nightmare.
"Why haven't you left yet?" Piccolo asked angrily from somewhere behind him.
Gohan whirled around again and came face-to-face with…nothing.
"Piccolo?" he called, his voice quavering. "Hey, Piccolo, this isn't funny! Stop it! You're scaring me!" Gohan hunched his shoulders against the cold and shivered. "Where are you?"
A shrill laugh was his response, and it was not from his Namekian mentor. "Why don't you run and hide, little Saiyan boy?" said something.
And that was it. Gohan's vague fear gave way rapidly to not terror, but anger. "I'm not going to run because of some nameless, formless thing!" he shouted. "That's not what I was trained to do!"
"That hasn't stopped you before," and the voice came from somewhere off to his right.
Gohan did not turn to face it. "That was in the past, whoever you are. I'm not leaving." In his single-minded anger he began to charge his ki, allowing its warmth to soak into his body. He would attack it before it could come anywhere near him.
Then the owner of the voice chuckled – and Gohan felt a chill run down his spine. "If that is your choice, boy, then you are welcome to it. But I shall advise you only once to stay out of this." And before the demi-Saiyan's astonished eyes, Piccolo suddenly appeared…locked in combat with mist? No, there was an arm, and eyes, and wings – all black. What on Earth is he fighting? Gohan thought incredulously. He watched as Piccolo threw a punch at the dark creature, and recoiled as the Namek's hand, then arm and body, flew right through it.
The dream-Piccolo caught sight of Gohan and growled. "I told you to leave, kid! Get out of here before it takes you!" He seemed almost anxious – desperate? – to get the boy away from him…
And the whole dream went dark as Gohan was pulled roughly from his sleep and into wakefulness.
"Hey, kiddo! Wake up!" came Krillin's voice. Gohan had yet to draw the connection between the voice and the hands on his shoulders that were shaking him awake. "Are you all right?"
Gohan opened his eyes, bleary with sleep, and yawned. "Uh…good morning, Krillin," he said, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes, unaware that the monk had been practically sitting on him. Krillin now moved to the edge of the bed as Goku and Chi-Chi came pounding down the hall. "What's going on?"
"You must've been having a nightmare or something, Gohan, 'cuz you were powering up and everything!" the man exclaimed. "And you were shouting something about you not leaving because you weren't trained to run, or something like that."
"Oh, Gohan!" Chi-Chi cried as she flew through the doorway and into the room, Goku trailing close behind her. "Baby, are you all right? Is that demon giving you nightmares?" She stopped at the side of the bed and reached out her arms to him.
Only Goku caught the look – fear? – that briefly crossed Gohan's face. "No, mom," the boy said, inching away from her on the bed. "It was just a dream. I'm fine."
"What was it about?" Chi-Chi asked, sitting down on the bed and grabbing Gohan anyway, hugging him to her.
"The battle with Frieza," he lied, frowning and sticking his tongue out at his mother, knowing that she couldn't see him. Krillin managed to turn his amused snort into a believable cough.
His mother released him quickly enough, and he scuttled back across the bed. "Oh, my baby is having nightmares about aliens! I knew it!" she sobbed, turning to her husband and burying her face in his shirt.
"As long as you're fine now, Gohan, we'll leave you alone," Goku said, leading Chi-Chi toward the door. Then he shot Gohan the I'll-talk-to-you-later look and proceeded out into the hallway.
The demi-Saiyan and the human monk exchanged glances. "It's about Piccolo, isn't it?" Krillin stated more than asked. He met Gohan's eyes with his own and did not look away until the young boy sighed.
"Yeah, it was," Gohan ceded, dropping his gaze.
"D'ya wanna tell me what happened?"
Gohan glanced up at his sparring partner again, but Krillin's eyes held only concern, not scorn or doubt. "Well," he said, "Piccolo kept telling me to get out of there, get away from him, and he was fighting with something that looked like it was dissolving. He even flew right through it, and that's when you woke me up." He made no mention of the final expression on the Namek's face, nor of the wind. As far as he could tell, it would only upset everyone further.
Krillin nodded and slid himself off the bed. "At least it's only a dream, Gohan," he said, patting the boy's arm. "You should try to get some more sleep."
"Why?" he asked. "What time is it?"
"About four in the morning." And Krillin chuckled as he, too, left the room, Gohan staring wide-eyed after him.
* * * * *
Hmm. I noticed that this is becoming a bit dark. Well, "a bit" might be an understatement, so let me know if I should change genres – something like that. Either way, I appreciate your time in reading this chapter.
~Dreamwraith